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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27499387">When the Crowd Sings Along</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unvsval/pseuds/unvsval'>unvsval</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gandrew Month [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF, sweetboys - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Caleb is pretty much just caleb, I like it, I wrote it, M/M, and add some chapters, garrett is famous, i made Ricky a drummer, i think after this month i might go back, in a different way, just to the ones that could be seen as multi-chapter fics, the singer au nobody needed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 02:35:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27499387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unvsval/pseuds/unvsval</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The SingerGarrett! au nobody needed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amy/Marley, Andrew Siwicki/Garrett Watts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gandrew Month [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When the Crowd Sings Along</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Gandrew Month day 10<br/>Prompt: Awakening<br/>Playlist:<br/>mr. lover man - ricky montgomery<br/>wind resistance - kinneret<br/>vanilla twilight - owl city</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Garrett thinks the crowd had to be his favorite part. Thousands of people crammed together just to see him; it was awesome. It was especially awesome when the crowd would sing along loud enough that sometimes Garrett didn’t need to sing; the crowd had taken over. It made him tear up every time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could complain, sometimes the hotels were all booked up and he had to squish himself into the tiny bunk he had on the bus, but why would he want to? Garrett got to share a part of himself in a way he loved with people who loved it too. What more could you ask for?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett said goodnight, giving one last wave to the crowd before rushing off-stage. He handed his guitar to one of the stage-hands with a quick thank you and ran off to the showers. The sooner he could get clean, the sooner he could get to the meet and greet, which meant more time at the meet and greet, which more people to meet and greet. Garrett loved people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went well, and Garrett walked out of the stadium with a ton of Twitter handles and phone numbers. Sometimes he’d call, let the people who enjoyed his music know that he knew of them and that he loved them. He’d talk to them about their lives and how they were doing, just because he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, Garrett was back on his tour bus, exhausted and still running on the adrenaline of being on stage. He sat on the small couch with his guitar across his lap and his favorite notebook laid open in front of him with the ‘awakening’ written in messy writing across the top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett’s ideas always came from within and memories he’d hoarded over the years and this one was particularly hard to write about. He’d come out a few years ago on Twitter before he had signed with his label, but his manager had told him that he should probably come out again since he’s gained a lot of popularity over the past year. His manager said it was in his best interest to ‘come out again, maybe write a song about it; make people feel connected to you, Garrett. They love it when you’re just human.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, here Garrett sat with a guitar in his lap and unsorted thoughts in his head, trying to write a song about a scary experience that people would </span>
  <em>
    <span>like. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>HIs drummer Ricky came in a few minutes after Garrett had found a pretty good chord progression. It was simple with a little sadness behind it and Garrett liked it, he just hoped that it would work well with whatever lyrics he came up with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, man,” Ricky took a seat next to him, bringing his ankle up to rest on his knee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Garrett played through the progression, trying to think up some lyrics,. He hummed a little melody that might work while Ricky drummed a pattern on his leg. He leaned forward, trying to get a peek at the lyrics Garrett had written, but the notebook still laid blank. The words Garrett had written and erased now only a whisper of the things he didn’t like. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This the new one?” Ricky leaned back against the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Garrett sighed, “but something about it’s still not right.”He put the guitar down to the side of him. Ricky nodded, he knew how Garrett’s process worked and this wasn’t it. Normally, Garrett came up with lyrics then passed them off to Caleb, his producer, and one of his writers. Honestly, Ricky was surprised Garrett had sat down long enough to come up with the chords. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should talk to Caleb. He’s been talking to this new writer, apparently, he’s really good and Caleb’s trying to get him to join the team. Although, I’m pretty sure he thinks Caleb’s lying to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just because Garrett’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ideas</span>
  </em>
  <span> came from within, didn’t mean that all of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>lyrics </span>
  </em>
  <span>did. Some of the songs he had on his album were written by his team, Caleb, Marley, and Amy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, maybe,” Garrett ran a hand down his face, the tiredness he should be feeling finally settling in. He had always appreciated Caleb’s efforts, and Marley and Amy’s songs always seemed to resonate a little more with the female population than Garrett’s songs did, but it made Garrett feel like he was cheating. Like, somehow, not having his name listed under the songwriters made him a liar. </span>
</p><p><span><br/></span> <span>“Well, look,” Ricky placed a hand on his shoulder, “The guys and I are going out for drinks and dinner. Somewhere in there, we’re meeting this new songwriter. You’re welcome to tag along.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Garrett thought about it. He’d have a better chance of getting this writer to join his team if he was actually there and even if the writer didn’t join his team, Garrett could at least ask his opinion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, alright,” he shrugged, finally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ricky jumped up with a grin. The tour bus wasn’t moving until after tomorrow’s show, so they had until tomorrow’s mic check to do whatever. Not that they’d use all that time, Garrett wanted to sleep at some point, but it was nice to know they had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! We’re leaving in, like, twenty minutes. So, get ready!” Ricky rushed out of the bus, probably to tell everybody that Garrett was going to join them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett shook his head at his friend’s antics before heading to his suitcase. He decided on his favorite button-up, a short-sleeved and weiner dog patterned shirt that went well with the khaki chinos he paired them with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, buddy!” Marley was first to greet him when he stepped off the bus. She gave him a hug and then hooked her elbow in his, leading him over to where everybody else greeted him with smiles. They all knew that smiling was easier than trying to get her to let go of Garrett’s arm so they could give him a hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” When everyone nodded, Caleb started walking in the direction of a restaurant that he knew wasn’t too far away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Marley patted Garrett’s shoulder to get his attention after having a silent conversation with Amy that Garrett couldn’t keep up with, “Ricky says you’re trying to write a coming-out song?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tall man nodded, “Yeah, I actually came up with a couple of chords that I like and he kind of has an idea of how the drums will go. Although, he did just tap it out on his leg, so I don’t know how big of an idea it actually is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marley nodded along, knowing that sometimes, Garrett just needed to talk his process out loud. Sometimes his brain needed to think a little harder than it did so Garrett himself knew what it was thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanna write about the stuff you go through when it happens, you know? The homophobia and the fear that your parents won’t accept it. I want it to resonate with people. I want them to see that they’re not the only ones who through all of that and that they’re not alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get that,” Marley said, “have you tried to brain dump? You just empty all of your thoughts onto a piece of paper or two, literally, you write down everything and then you go through it and take out the things you think matter. Later, you turn that into lyrics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Garrett shook his head, “That’s not really how my brain works, I’m pretty sure I’d just get distracted. Maybe if I’m stuck later, I’ll try it,” he shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Caleb clapped, turning so his back was to the restaurant, “Andrew said that he’d be here in a bit. You guys are welcome to go ahead inside, but I’m going to wait out here, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caleb had the ability, even though he was a child at heart and still had his dumb moments, to take charge and make sure everyone knew what was going on. It was one of the many reasons Garrett loved him like a brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the group chorused their okays, they all went inside. A bubbly, brunette waitress who sort of just stared at Ricky got them all seated in a corner booth and after she left to collect the table’s drinks, Amy and Marley turned to Garrett. </span>
  <span>Amy pulled a notebook practically out of thin air and Marley pulled a pen out of her bra. Andrew took the notebook but hesitated to grab the pen. Marley rolled her eyes and shoved it in his direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just write, dude,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett sighed with a shrug. He let his brain run wild, writing down </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He started with his fear his mom wouldn’t accept him-he wrote a small tangent about how kittens were just too damn small-finishing with vague thoughts about the ginger that Caleb was leading toward their booth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, I thought you were kidding,” the man, presumably Andrew, said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I wasn’t. Sorry, you thought I was a creep,” Caleb shrugged. He turned to the table and pointed, “That’s Garrett, you may have heard of him; this is Marley, her and Amy here help write some cool things. Marley wrote the chorus to ‘Silly’ and Amy wrote the bass lick in ‘Heaven.’ And then this is Ricky; Ricky isn’t really that important, but we keep him around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Ow!” Caleb rubbed his shoulder where Ricky just punched him and motioned to Andrew, “Guys, this is Andrew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrew waved once his hands immediately going back to fiddling with the rubber band on his wrist. He didn’t snap it, but something in his face made Garrett think he wanted to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,’ Garrett scooted over so Andrew and Caleb had room in the booth just as the waitress returned with their drinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about the wait, you guys,” She placed everyone's cups down, Ricky’s was the only one with a napkin under it but he didn’t seem to notice. Amy said that they’d need more time and after a bunch of head nods, the waitress left with only the drink orders of Andrew and Caleb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Caleb says you’re an amazing songwriter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a second for Andrew to snap out of his stupor, slightly flustered with all the people around him. He looked to Garrett when he realized he was being spoken to, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if you don’t join the team, do you mind if I pick your brain on something?” despite being impatient about pretty much everything else, Garrett was always patient with people. So he let Andrew think over his answer for however long he needed to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Andrew looked down to the notebook Garrett slid in front of him, it was full of scribbles and doodles and words he couldn’t quite make out, “Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett explained everything that he wanted to say and how he wanted to connect to an audience. Andrew listened, staring down at the table to avoid eye contact, but still hanging on to every word that Garrett said. When Garrett was done, he gave Andrew a moment to process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrew nodded as his thoughts caught up with him and he spared a glance to Garrett out of the corner of his eye, “I think you’re too focused on your audience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett gave him a look as Marley and Amy stopped their conversation to listen to Andrew’s words. Andre flushed at the attention and cleared his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like, it’s good you want to make it personable and, uhm, have it-you said-resonate with people, but at some point, it has to be different. You know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett did not know, “I mean, I guess?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, Amy face-palmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrew decided; fuck it, let me get passionate real quick, “Not everyone’s story is the same and obviously your song won’t necessarily mean something to everybody, but that doesn't mean they won’t listen to it. If you write about <em>your</em> experience and how <em>you</em> dealt with <em>your</em> coming out, then people will listen and realize that they went through something similar and relate it to that similar experience: stop writing your music for other people and just write your story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few beats of silence, Andrew chanced a look up, only to find five mildly shocked faces staring back at him. To be honest, this wasn’t anything Marley and Amy didn’t already know, but they’d never had to explain it. So the fact that Andrew did had Amy breaking the silence first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome,” she said in the midst of a laugh that made it sound more like a scoff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrew flushed, something that Garrett must happen a lot, and went back to twirling the rubber band on his wrist. He stretched it taught before sighing and gently easing the tension so he didn’t snap himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marley smiled sadly at the action, knowing what it’s like to depend on materials instead of your own mentality. If she knew Andrew a little better, she’d probably tell him that she was proud of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waitress came back and instead of asking for everyone's orders just proceeded to flirt with Ricky. It made everyone uncomfortable, especially Andrew. Garrett turned to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to get out of here?” He replayed the sentence in his head before tacking on, “You seem overwhelmed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett let Andrew stare at his face, knowing that he was probably trying to judge Garrett’s intentions. Sure, Andrew had heard of Garrett, it was kind of hard not too and Andrew had Garrett’s most recent album in the CD player in his car, but that didn’t mean he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. The media said he was a pretty okay guy, he apparently always put others before him and he respected, not only women but </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span> with a fiery passion, but could Andrew trust the tabloids? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He decided that just this once, he didn’t care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” he cleared his throat when the sound escaped softer than he’d intended. He and Garrett got out of the booth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gonna head out, sorry guys.” Garrett reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He threw his card on the table, “Dinner’s on me. I’ll catch you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before anyone really knew what was happening, Andrew and Garrett were gone. The only suggestion that they’d been there coming from their condensating glasses on the table and the notebook that Garrett had left because it wasn’t his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked in silence for a little while. It smelled like rain, but it was warm enough for Garrett to almost regret wearing pants. Neither of them quite knew where they were going but after a while, Garrett realized they were headed in the direction of the tour bus, so he just made that his destination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, do you write for fun or because it’s your job?” Garrett had had enough of the silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both, really. Sometimes, it feels like a job, deadlines and all, but sometimes I can crank out like seven songs in the span of two hours.” Andrew shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s how I started.” They didn’t talk about work for long. Instead, choosing to get to know each other through their hobbies and interests. Garrett was awesome at Mario Kart and could get through the rainbow road level, something Andrew made him promise he’d get to see sometime, and Andrew liked to collect hoodies. It made the hoodie he was currently wearing make a lot more sense given the close to eighty-degree weather. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They made it to the bus a little past the knick of time, stepping onto the bus already soaked. Garrett told Andrew to wait while he got some towels. He also came back with a pair of clothes, some shorts, and a hoodie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett got dry and dressed in the back section of the bus that had a door leading into the main area. He waited a few seconds before knocking on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, you’re good!” Andrew sputtered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett came into the room with a sweater and a pair of athletic shorts. Andrew had to tie his a couple of times so they wouldn’t fall off. Garrett quietly thought to himself that it was adorable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you had for what we were talking about?” Andrew pointed to the notebook that Garrett had earlier, still full of words he had erased. Garrett nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I didn’t like those words.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, you can use them, you just gotta-here.” Andrew scribbled the words back onto the page with a pen he pulled from his pocket and then scribbled some more under them before handing the notebook to Garrett. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Garrett’s breath was suddenly taken away, “Yeah, damn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrew picked at a little peeling varnish on the neck of Garrett’s guitar and nodded. Garrett grabbed it and before long they were writing a song together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, that’s good, but instead of playing that up there, play the alternative down here,” Andrew pointed to the bottom of the neck, closer to the body. The only difference in sound was one of the strings and it just sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>whereas before something about the chord bothered Garrett.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett played through the progression with the new chord before shouting, “Yeah! Andrew, that’s awesome!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrew laughed fully, having relaxed to the sound of Garrett’s voice and the rain, “Yeah, it’s good. Now…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent the night working on the song and when it was finished and everybody had returned from getting drinks they decided that tomorrow’s mic check was going to be playing through the song. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to stay the night?” Garrett asked before he really thought it through. They didn’t really have enough room. Marley and Amy shared the room at the back of the bus and they only had three bunk beds. The space under Ricky’s bed instead being a very, very small washer and dryer that could only do about three pieces of clothing at a time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, yeah,” Andrew said and Garrett was struck with the oh shit moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, you can take the bunk, and I guess I can take the couch.” Garrett winced when he realized that the last time he slept on the couch he woke up and wasn’t able to turn his head to the left for two days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Andrew’s eyes widened, not having realized that they were going to be spending the night on the bus, “Look, I can go home. If you don’t have room, that’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garrett wanted to protest, to make Andrew stay the night, but he rationally knew that there wasn’t any room. So, he sighed, “Alright, but!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrew jumped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You come back here tomorrow, okay? Not only will I keep your clothes captive, but I also want you to hear what we created but with a full band behind it. Promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andrew laughed as Garrett stuck his pinky out for him to promise. He pretended to debate it, he’d already made up his mind, he was going to be back. I mean come on, the man had his clothes, but he liked watching the grin on Garrett’s face grow when Andrew finally decided to hook his pinky with the taller man’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise.”</span>
</p>
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